


no other language but their breathing

by peacefrog



Category: The Exorcist (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-12 11:38:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17466860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peacefrog/pseuds/peacefrog
Summary: It started with a look, a subtle shift in Tomas’ road-weary expression. A brow lifting, ever-so-subtle, in a way it never had before.





	no other language but their breathing

It started with a look, a subtle shift in Tomas’ road-weary expression. A brow lifting, ever-so-subtle, in a way it never had before. Though if they were being honest, it had started long ago. On that first day, the first lilt of Tomas’ voice drifting into Marcus’ room at St. Aquinas. 

_“Father Marcus?”_

Marcus was a goner from the start. Those honeyed-hazel eyes. The scent of him, the air in winter. There had been a heat spilling from him beyond the cold, and Marcus hadn’t seen anyone so beautiful in so long, maybe never before. Marcus had felt his blood pulsing as he backed Tomas against the wall.

And now, that same feeling, the same frantic pumping of his blood, rushing from his head to his heart and lower still. Rushing and wanting. Marcus pushed his body tightly against Tomas’, pushed Tomas’ body roughly against the door. He wrapped his fingers around Tomas’ collar, crushing it in his hands, that immaculate white notch at his throat like a warning. _We shouldn’t be doing this._ He felt Tomas swallow against his fingers.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” Tomas breathed, Marcus’ lips knocking against his own, and Marcus almost laughed.

“Then tell me to stop.” Marcus released his hold on Tomas’ collar, moved his fingers to his hair, thick and dark.

Tomas said nothing, let out a sound that might have been a growl had Marcus not swallowed it down when Tomas crashed their lips together. Marcus tasted something holy on his tongue, the body, the blood. Or perhaps it was something different, something dark, something that should have been rotten were it not so sweet. That thing inside Tomas that had been growing since that day on that old dusty road, the demon waltzing into his mind.

“There’s something wrong with me,” Tomas breathed, breaking away, his fingers digging painfully into the bones of Marcus’ shoulders. “You were right. I can feel it.”

“No, no,” Marcus insisted, tracing the curve of Tomas’ glistening lips with the tip of his finger. “Don’t say that, Tomas. Just focus on me. Everything is going to be all right.” 

But it wasn’t true, Marcus knew, deep down, sinking like a stone in his belly. He let one hand fall down to grope at the bulge in Tomas’ trousers and pushed all other thoughts from his mind. Tomas gasped as though he’d been burned.

“Is this all right?” Marcus asked, mouthing at the curve of Tomas’ throat.

“Yes,” Tomas blurted, and Marcus could feel him growing harder still inside the palm of his hand. “Yes, it’s so good. So good, Marcus. So…”

Tomas’ head knocked back against the door and he moaned as Marcus unzipped him with one trembling hand, the other working open his belt. If Marcus couldn’t save him, maybe he could still have this. For one fleeting, beautiful moment, sinking down to his knees on the scratchy motel carpet.

How many times had Marcus thought of this? Had he ever thought of it at all? Head swimming, Marcus couldn’t remember. There seemed now to be only this, the two of them filthy from the road, exhausted marrow-deep from days on end without sleeping and very little food. And Marcus’ endless worrying, watching Tomas like a hawk during that last grueling exorcism.

“You know how we can finish this quickly,” Tomas had insisted. “It worked before. We’re so close, I can feel it. He doesn’t have much time.”

“You’re never doing that again,” Marcus had spit, and by the time it was finished something inside of Tomas had shifted, or snapped, or broken him clean in two. They hadn’t spoken a single word on the drive from the house to this motel room. And now, suddenly this.

Marcus’ hands wouldn’t stop shaking, his mind racing. He focused on the glide of Tomas’ body beneath his fingers, and It happened so quickly, Marcus was dizzy with it. Tomas’ nails digging into his scalp, the scent of Tomas pulled deep inside his lungs, his fingers finding Tomas’ hips, nuzzling against him, trailing the warmth of his lips down the length of Tomas’ leaking cock. Taking Tomas into his mouth like communion, a flash of headlights slipping through the cracks in the curtains. Tomas crying out, mumbling something unintelligible in spanish, in english, the language of their love coming to life between them in the dark. 

Tomas came with a gasp and Marcus held him tightly there against the door, his thighs trembling and broken music pouring from his lips. Marcus couldn’t even think of his own arousal, there was only this. Tomas on his tongue, in his belly now, blood rushing so loudly in his ears. Tomas slipping down to the floor, head thrown back against the door and panting. Marcus resting his hot face against the bony jut of Tomas’ knee. 

No words, no sounds, no other language but their breathing. Tomas’ warm hand in the short crop of Marcus’ hair. The piston of his lungs, the hammer of his heart. Marcus drifted back to St. Aquinas, Tomas' voice rising above the music. Marcus turning, catching his gaze, his breath catching for a moment in his chest, trying not to let it show.

Marcus raised his eyes to Tomas in the dark, a little smile on his lips. And Tomas was smiling, too, Marcus thought, reaching for him. Tomas pressed a kiss to the center of his palm and heat spread down to Marcus’ toes.

“Let me take care of you,” Tomas purred, moving to draw Marcus in, his clever hands everywhere.

“No, no,” Marcus said, allowing himself to be folded into Tomas’ arms. “I’m all right. I promise. I don’t need anything more than this.”

“Are you sure?” Tomas asked, his lips close to Marcus’ ear, one hand working up the back of Marcus’ shirt.

Marcus sighed, and thought of God, and held onto Tomas tightly. “I’m sure,” he said, sighing in the dark. He had never been more certain.

_And I’m going to save you,_ he thought, feeling it as surely now as the ticking of his heart. _I’m going to save you even if it kills me._

**Author's Note:**

> I have so many fics in progress right now y'all but none of them want to come to life at the moment so this is basically me trying to work the knots out of my brain. I don't even know. I hope to have something a bit longer and more plot-heavy finished soon. xD


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